


Steamed Up

by glamorouspixels



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: But Smutty, Character study???, Cocaine Blues, F/M, Jack's POV, Masturbation, Not sure if this has been done before, S01E01, Steam Room Smut, or if it's appropriate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 07:11:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20041972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamorouspixels/pseuds/glamorouspixels
Summary: It was not uncommon for a police officer of his rank and age to have experienced anencounteror two that left him feeling far less than professional, but no other woman had ever caused him such turmoil.





	Steamed Up

_ “Glad you could make it, Inspector. I’m a little more steamed up than I wanted to be.” _

Jack was feeling unusually, astonishingly, thoroughly bothered. No matter how he tossed and turned, his clammy sheets balled up beside him, the clock on bedside table ticking away the hours, the infuriating encounter of this day would not leave his mind. 

It was not uncommon for a police officer of his rank and age to have experienced an _ encounter _ or two that left him feeling far less than professional, but no other woman had ever caused him such turmoil. Not even during his younger days. Christ, he had only just met her mere days ago, and would most likely never cross her path again. So why was he acting like an inexperienced school boy, all but dripping in hormones?

Although, from a purely professional viewpoint, he ought to inform her commotion of the she had brought into being with her prompt and rather convenient escape. 

The notion could not appease him, though, his mind running over the encounter – as well as the _ woman _ – over and over again. She had appeared almost greedy, at first, and extraordinarily confrontational; though certainly confident in her stride, never taking her eyes off him. 

_ “I do like a man with a plan, Detective Inspector… Jack Robinson.” _

Jack had feared getting lost in those fearless eyes, conveying her true strength and brilliance even as she had attempted to downplay them to secure her image of dull innocence. It had been deliberate, of course: an intricate mask designed to strike him as non-perilous as to let her roam about his case undisturbed. 

And, dumbstruck as he’d been by her demeanor, he had let her. 

What’s more, he had wanted to taste his name on her those deep red lips, curious and all-consuming and teeming with admiration, both for his person and the obvious effect he had allowed her to have on him. She was unlike any woman he had previously happened upon – utterly sure of herself and completely undisturbed by society’s claims on her, yet ready to adapt to and exploit them for her full advantage. 

All in all, her manners had spoken of a deep-running brightness that he had found entirely too enticing, and, trying and failing to grasp his remaining composure and appear refined official he ought to be, he had straight up fallen for her dangerous scheme. 

_ “I’m a woman alone, newly arrived in a dangerous town.” _

Groaning in surrender, Jack turned once more, disposing of the heavy drape to lie on his back. He could picture her vividly in his mind, her voice raspy and breathless, his gaze settling her pronounced shoulders as the retreating steam bared her to his eyes after he had freed her from the steam room. Hell, that damned woman had just blown up a bath palace – yet here he was, contemplating her delicate figure, the beads of sweat trickling down her collarbones, collecting in the hollow at the base of her throat… _ Fuck. _

His hand had traveled down his chest of its own accord, almost icy cold against the flaming hot of his skin. Though he was at first shocked by his actions, he concluded that it was perhaps best to get her out of his system before his obsession grew out of hand. Because that was all that it was, all that it could be. It would only be this once, he promised himself, letting his hand wrap around his cock and his mind wander freely. 

***

“Glad you could make it, Inspector. I’m a little more steamed up than I wanted to be.” 

Hot gusts of steam hit him in the face, but all he could focus on was the woman on her knees before him. They were alone, in his mind, his Constable having vanished from existence, the naked man on the board behind her nothing but a faint memory. 

Once more, he took in her disheveled demeanor, admiring the shiny, wet strands of hair as they clung to her face, her skillfully applied make-up made more prominent by the mist and her sweat. There was a dangerous glint to her eyes, even as she had barely escaped her untimely end. (Though she wouldn’t have minded much, he presumed, suffocating gracefully with only a towel to hide her narrow form from view.)

“I always wondered what went down in a Turkish bath house,” he said, averting his eyes out of habit, awkward even in his imagination. “Would you care to enlighten me, Miss Fisher?” He added, more boldly this time. 

One perfectly sculpted eyebrow quirked in amusement, she peered up at him through her curtain of long, dark eyelashes. Her chest was still rising and falling rapidly as she regained her breath. God, how he wished to rid her of that towel. Keeping her eyes fixed on his, she rose to step into his space, and her breath ghosting along his face and neck made him shudder. 

“I’d be happy to, Inspector.” She took his hand and led him back into the room that had nearly cost her her life. _ Except here, in his imagination, it wouldn’t go up in flames _, he acknowledged in passing. It proved to be yet another benefit of his mind that they could get right to it; to hell with pretense and formality. Even in this hazed condition, he was painfully aware that he would never do her justice with her quick, magnificent mind – he almost felt sorry for it, for reducing her for the purpose of one of his fantasies; at the same time doubting himself for she had done the same for him. Jack made a quick mental note to rectify her image, should he ever get to know her better. It was unlikely, of course, though it eased his conscience as he was currently enslaved to his desire.

She surged straight up to him, crushing her mouth against his and beginning to work on his tie. Rather helplessly, be buried his hands in her hair and raked his fingernails across her scalp, which earned him a low moan whose low vibration carried right to his already hard length where it was currently pressing against her cloth-wrapped belly. 

Thankfully, as these were the happenings of his mind, his overcoat and vest had conveniently removed themselves, leaving him only in his dress shirt and already uncomfortably tight trousers. With Miss Fisher’s hot tongue battling with his, Jack dimly reminded himself to come forward and take initiative; this moment, however intimate, was entirely his to enjoy and he repressed his shame, intent on returning to it later, should a reason present itself. He would never see her again, he resolved finally. 

As she dragged his now loosened tie off his neck, Jack broke their kiss with one final bite across her bottom lip that caused her to shiver against him. Pulling her hair to tilt her head back, he traced his lips along her sharp cheekbone and down her jaw. Jack relished the damp softness of her skin and the breathy moans that escaped her while his fumbling hands came to work clumsily on her towel. 

He followed the path of his hands down with his lips, biting where her neck met her shoulder and suckling to ease the now sensitive skin. Miss Fisher gently pushed him away, hands splayed across his heaving chest, one fingernail gently scraping his nipple through the soggy fabric of his shirt. 

“Let me assist you with that, Inspector,” she murmured – always sticking to formalities, of course – against his ear while her eyes were fixed on his. Slowly, almost torturously, she trailed her left hand up her chest to hold the towel in place while her right hand loosened the corner tucked underneath that had secured the fabric as it clung to her form. She never broke eye contact, yet Jack was finding it increasingly troublesome not to let his gaze slip lower, down her shimmering skin to the soft curve of her breasts visible through their restriction. Thankfully, he didn’t have to deny himself for much longer; Miss Fisher finally let the towel drop to pool at her feet. 

Jack’s heavy breath caught in his throat at the unrestricted sight of her. His first instinct was to take a quick step back and turn away, damn his modesty. 

“Don’t you agree it’s a little late for that?”

It was only at the cheerful note of her voice that he permitted himself to delight in the woman in front of her, and she certainly proved to be a breathtaking sight. Not unlike her brains, he could never do her body justice, though he was certainly pleased with what his head had conjured up. 

Her small breasts were heaving in sync with her breath, pointed with soft pink nipples that were rapidly hardening in the caress of steam that encircled them. Already impossibly hard, Jack let his eyes follow a drop of sweat down the full, incredibly soft-looking underside of her breast, then across the pale-white expanse of her stomach and her soft hips, and, finally, into the dark patch of hair that sat at the apex of her thighs. In summary, the entirety of her presence went straight to his groin and made his cock twitch almost painfully. 

Oh, how he wished to replace that drop with his tongue, to worship her curves and ravish her until his touch on her flesh and his name on her lips were all that her mind could comprehend. _ You can, Robinson _, he reminded himself, after another rush of shame for his indecency had shaken him.

Once his eyes had made their way back up to Miss Fisher’s, who was examining him through darkened eyes as she waited for him to finish his observations, Jack stepped back into her. His hand sprawled across the roundness of her arse to pull her close against his erection, even the slightest friction enough to cause stars dancing at the edge of his vision and for a low growl to escape from deep within his chest. 

Miss Fisher glanced up at him in surprise. Her eyes sparkled with delight, a smile tugging at the scarlet of her lips as the heat rising in his cheeks began to match that low in his belly.

Having found a new motivation in his desire, Miss Fisher made quick work of his shirt and ran her small hands all over the newly exposed skin, making Jack tremble with each drag of her fingers against his nipples.

“Please, Miss Fisher,” he breathed, astonished by the unfamiliar, low rumble of his voice, but unable to produce any more coherent language. He quickly toed off his shoes and socks and impatiently guided her hands to the zip of his trousers.

Once unbuttoned, she hooked her fingers into the sides of his smalls and trousers and pulled both down in one swift stroke. After Jack had stepped out of them, Miss Fisher, pressing her hands to his chest and deliciously bucking her hips against his cock, guided him back to settle on the wooden bench of the steam room, slippery but relentless against his exposed skin. 

She straddled him, easing him back against the wall and dragging open-mouthed kisses down the column of his neck, her tongue hot against his skin. Every slightest touch, every gust of air against his cock was becoming too much; he gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and lifted her up from his lap, cursing under his breath as she grasped his length. She pumped him once, twice, and the world seemed to give out around him as she guided his tip into her entrance. 

His breath caught and she gasped as she gradually sank down around him; her walls stretching to take him in were pure, heavenly bliss. After a moment of silent adjustment, the two of them slick with sweat and getting lost in the deep black disks of each other’s eyes, their chopped breathing filling the room, Miss Fisher finally began to rise over him. 

She attempted to set a slow rhythm, moving upward until only his tip was buried inside her, but then plunging down onto his lap. The slap of skin against skin rang through the steam room and Jack’s hips rocketed up to meet hers. While his moan was low and gravelly, Miss Fisher’s shouts became high-pitched.

She arched her back with each rise and fall atop his length, her breasts bouncing deliciously before his face. He looped one arm around her shoulders to steady her and latched his mouth onto one rosy nipple; first softly licking, then sucking it hard into his mouth. He found a deep satisfaction in the knowledge that it was _ him _ to draw those sounds out of her, high-pitched curses and drawls of “fuck, yes” and “more” and “damn you, Inspector!” that had been the result of _ his _ touches.

When he felt her thighs beginning to shake against him, he dragged his second hand down through her soaked tangle of pubic hair and found her swollen clit, which he rubbed in quick, circular motions with his thumb. 

She dropped down onto him only a handful more times, his hips coming up to meet each of her falls, until he felt her muscles clench around his cock. With renewed determination, he increased the pressure on her clit and took her breast into his mouth, his teeth coming to scrape against the full underside, her nipple against the roof of his mouth. 

“I c-can’t, I’m coming-”

With one violent thrust, Jack pulled at her clit and gently bit down on her breast, secretly taking pride in the mark he knew he would leave. With her back arched and her head thrown back, Miss Fisher turned away from his mouth and the feel of her wildly clenching around him was enough to send him over the edge, as well, his vision going black while her inner walls clutched at his cock.

***

With a final, skilled twist of his hand around his cock, Jack finally shattered, his warm fluids spilling across his palm. He dragged his other arm up to his mouth and brought his teeth down to the flesh in an attempt to muffle his scream as he came. Unnecessarily so, he realized with disappointment as the reality of his loneliness came settling in. Once he came down with a few more lazy strokes, limbs heavy with fatigue, humiliation at his impurity ultimately overcame him. 

Though he could acknowledge it had been for the best, at least to calm his desires for the time being if not for the long term, the guilt quickly became unbearable and he turned his flushed face into the pillows in order to hide his immodesty from the world.

  
Fortunately, he didn’t remain flustered for long since a new thought was beginning to take shape in his mind. _ She would be pleased, _ he thought, _ to find what she had done to him with one simple glance. _

**Author's Note:**

> I know nobody actually reads the notes, but thank you so much for reading! I know this won't seem like a lot to most people, but this is the first time I've written a full oneshot and I'm extremely proud of myself (although I know that looking at the stats once this is posted will turn me into an anxious mess). This is the first time a fandom has captured me enough to write just for the sake of it instead of the goal to receive hits and kudos and I'm so happy. Let's hope I can keep this up!


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